Knit Your Own Zombie

The chill in the air and the carpet of autumn leaves is leaving no doubt as to the time of year and Hallowe'en is very nearly upon us. Usually by now, my house would be decorated and parties planned but I have been very slow to get going for some reason I have yet to fathom. I have, though, completed a craft project which combines my love of the macabre with my knitting hobby and made this handsome little fella.

The pattern is from Fiona Goble's Knit Your Own Zombie which I highly recommend (should you have any leaning towards knitting needles, yarn and the undead).

The protruding entrails do detach completely from the 'gut pocket' leaving plenty of room to insert a brown rat should you desire. I have made the rat but my personal preference is for the guts. I just love the colour!

One day I may progress onto sensible and useful hats, gloves, scarves and jumpers but for now, I'm having far too much fun.

Trauma Bears

My wonderful friend, who never ceases to amaze me how firmly her finger is on the pulse of everything that is happening, pointed me in the direction of  an appeal by West Mercia police for knitters.

I always love to give something back to society whenever I have the opportunity and the new initiative launched by the West Mercia Police's Family Protection Units was an absolutely perfect opportunity for me.

The aim of the initiative is to provide children being interviewed in a case of child abuse with a knitted 'trauma teddy' that they can keep with them for comfort during the process of the investigation. Apparently, research has shown that this very simple idea of having a teddy companion is an effective way of helping the young victims to cope.

Recently, I have been reading the bestselling books of Cathy Glass, author and foster carer. They are the true stories of the children she has fostered and paint a harrowing picture of the long term effects of abuse as well as the suffering endured.

Some years ago I began the process of applying to be a foster carer. Then I discovered that I was pregnant and put my plans on hold to concentrate on my new, unexpected but much welcomed baby. Had it not been for my little late in life miraculous daughter, followed by a second miracle in the shape of my son, my life would have been very different. I like to think I could have helped in some small way with any children that would have been placed in my care for whatever reasons.

Knitting trauma teddies for the Family Protection Units is a tiny link to the sort of life I might have had.

I contacted the people in charge to offer my services and hopefully can begin teddy production as soon as I have the pattern. I only hope that my newly acquired knitting skills are up to the task. I will certainly give it my best effort and hopefully my mum will get on board to help out too.

When I was talking on the telephone with the Family Protection Unit, I was mortified that Dylan chose that moment to bang his Bob the Builder work bench loudly and repeatedly with his plastic hammer and Addy started yelling and screaming because she wanted a biscuit and I was not giving her my undivided attention! I had visions of the emergency despatch of trauma bear yielding social workers to see what on earth was going on at this madhouse.  Two bourbon biscuits restored calm immediately but not until after I had replaced the telephone in its cradle.

I am really looking forward to a new knitting challenge and if one of my creations can offer even the slightest comfort to a child that needs it, then that makes me very happy indeed.

The Unofficial Gallery

I think my current minor obsession with knitting may be coming to a natural end.

I spent a lot of yesterday finishing a snake project that I started under my mum's guidance. Mum left me the knitting pattern book to have a go on my own with the promise that she would be on the end of a phone if I got really stuck.

I got stuck alright, more times than I can count, but I started to thoroughly enjoy the challenge of trying to sort out my mistakes and unravel the mystery of the knitting pattern code. I felt a huge sense of achievement when I finally completed my task without once resorting to phoning mum in tears of frustration at my incompetence.

So for my unofficial Gallery entry this week (Tara is having a week off!) and ignoring the prompt (unless I can call it my trip into the world of wool and needles) I give you my finished knitting project - complete with his knitted lunch.

Knitted Toys - from a nana with love

Ever since I bought Jean Greenhowe's Knitted Toys book from the charity shop and gave it to my mum, she has gone into overdrive on knitted toy production. Now, instead of bringing a cardi or jumper per weekly visit for one of the little ones, she brings a variety of cute, cuddly characters.

Mum is the first to admit she is learning as she goes and not all of her efforts have yielded the greatest of successes. Some of her toys would certainly never be awarded any sort of safety standard and have had to be designated 'top shelf ornamental status' lest they prove choking hazards... and her baby white mouse does actually look, to my eyes, much more akin to a super absorbent tampon rather than a twitchy whiskered rodent.

Joking aside, I absolutely adore her little creations made with love and can't help thinking that there is enormous potential there to customise with a bit of imagination.

I have dabbled with knitting at various points in my life (mostly during pregnancy) and do find it surprisingly relaxing. My mum has very generously agreed to share not just her wool and needles but her time and patience to be my knitting mentor as I attempt one or two creations of my own. As with most things, finding the time to dedicate to it is difficult so my progress is painfully slow. I have been practicing technique on a tiny little fish that only takes minutes to produce and have been so delighted to see my daughter playing fantastically imaginative games with the freaky family I have made (one in particular bears far too close a resemblance to a penis!).

I was so enjoying the knitting experience that I went out to buy my own set of needles and a ball of wool to practice with when mum and her many coloured oddments were not available.

I took my 3 year old daughter with me to buy the wool. I selected a lovely soft, neutral grey and asked her what she thought of the colour. She took it out of my hand, said "That is not good" and put it back on the shelf. She then selected a shocking pink ball, placed it in my hand and very emphatically stated "That is good".  Who was I to argue?!

What does the pink fish top right remind you of?!